The Untainted
Chapter 52
Late into the night, the Abdullah household was wrapped in an uneasy silence. Inside their bedroom, the air felt heavier than usual, thick with suspicion and unspoken fear.
Mr. Abdullah sat at the edge of the bed, his fingers interlocked, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. When he finally spoke, his voice was low—but it carried a sharp edge.
"Do you think the Mustophа lied to me because…" He paused, jaw tightening. "I don't want to believe it."
His wife watched him carefully. She knew that tone. It was the calm before something stormy.
"I was the one who told him about a girl who resembled Nofisat," he continued. "Yet he dismissed it—said it was unlikely. Told me not to raise hopes only to crush them later." His lips pressed into a thin line. "He told me to give up."
Silence stretched between them.
"Then suddenly," he went on, voice growing colder, "Makinde mentioned his name again. Why now? Why all of this now?"
He exhaled sharply, standing up and pacing toward the glass window overlooking the quiet garden.
"Why would he lie to me?"
His wife rose slowly, choosing her words with care. "Maybe he didn't. Or maybe… it's not the same person. Let's not jump to conclusions yet. Call Collins. Confirm it first."
He hesitated—then nodded. "Fine."
Pulling out his phone, he dialed.
It rang twice.
"Buddy! Salam alaikum warahmotullah," came the cheerful voice from the other end. "It's late. Hope all is well? Or are you missing me already? We saw just this afternoon."
Mr. Abdullah scoffed. "Walaikum salam warahmotullah wabarokatuh. You wish. Who would miss your big head? Go away."
A laugh echoed through the line. "Fine, I'll go—"
"Wait." His tone sharpened. "You win. I need to ask you something."
There was a slight pause. "Alright… go on."
"Who told you about your daughter? That Mustopha you mentioned—who exactly is he?"
"Oh, that?" Collins replied easily. "Our business partner. The same Mustopha we met in Europe six years ago."
Something inside Mr. Abdullah stilled.
"So… it's him."
"Of course it's him. Why—" Collins' voice shifted, concern creeping in. "What do you mean? Olajide, what's going on?"
A beat.
"Let's talk later."
The line went dead.
He lowered the phone slowly.
"I can't believe this," his wife said, anger now evident in her voice. "They told you to forget about it… yet went behind your back to investigate—and told Collins instead?"
Her eyes flashed. "Is it because they want their son to marry the girl? This is beyond selfish. It's deceitful."
Mr. Abdullah said nothing, but the tightening of his fists spoke volumes.
Across town, the Collins residence was anything but calm.
Mr. Collins stared at his phone, frowning deeply.
"That's not like him," he muttered. "Olajide doesn't act like that unless something is seriously wrong."
His wife, seated beside him on the bed, glanced at the scattered photographs and documents around them—every piece of information they had gathered about Rihannat.
"Then don't wait," she urged. "Go see him tomorrow."
He shook his head. "I can't. Seifullah is signing a contract in the morning. I have to receive a client from Australia on his behalf."
She sighed. "Then the next day. But don't delay. Something feels off."
He nodded slowly. "I'll go the day after tomorrow. InshaAllah."
Neither of them mentioned the obvious—that excitement had kept them awake.
Their daughter… possibly found.
The next day at school, things felt far less heavy—but no less complicated.
The classroom buzz had died down after the professor left, leaving behind clusters of students discussing assignments.
At one corner, Basit, Rihannat, and Folakemi sat together.
Folakemi leaned closer, tapping Rihannat lightly. "The people you asked about—they've arrived. The Collins family. I heard they visited our house last Sunday."
Rihannat blinked. "They did?"
Folakemi nodded eagerly. "Do you want to meet them?"
Basit, who had been half-listening, frowned slightly. "Wait… who are you talking about?"
Recognition flickered across his face almost immediately.
"Mrs. Collins?" he asked.
Folakemi turned to him, surprised. "Yes. You know her?"
He smiled faintly. "I do."
Then, casually—almost too casually—he added, "And Rihannat won't be going with you."
Both girls turned to him.
"She's coming with me."
Rihannat felt it before she processed it—a small, sudden jolt in her chest.
"Wow," Folakemi drawled, grinning. "I didn't realize things had gotten this serious."
Rihannat stiffened. "Fola—"
"With exams coming up, limited time and all…" Folakemi continued, winking. "Better take things to the next level before shaitan starts whispering. Seems like our dear Basit can't wait anymore."
Both Basit and Rihannat choked at the same time.
"What is wrong with you?" Rihannat whispered urgently, clamping a hand over her friend's mouth, her face flushed.
Basit cleared his throat, his ears betraying him with a faint tint of pink. "It's not what you think. We just… have something to discuss."
"Exactly," Folakemi shot back. "Like preparing the bride—"
"Stop it, Fola!"
Rihannat's glare could have burned through steel.
Basit, however, only found it… amusing.
Which made her even more flustered.
Moments later, Rihannat realized she had completely zoned out.
When she snapped back, the classroom was nearly empty. Her books were gone. Her bag—
—was in Basit's hand.
He stood there, watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read.
She rolled her eyes.
"It's your fault," she blurted.
The moment the words left her mouth, her eyes widened.
Folakemi chuckled, already walking ahead. "I'll give you two some space," she said, disappearing toward the hostel path.
Now it was just them.
The garden stretched ahead—quiet, blooming, and far too open for Rihannat's liking.
Basit stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Why would you say that… when it's not true?"
Rihannat crossed her arms, trying to steady herself. "Because you didn't tell me anything. You just decided I'm going somewhere with you?"
"I told you now."
"That's not the same thing."
He tilted his head slightly. "Would you have agreed if I told you earlier?"
She hesitated.
He noticed.
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Exactly."
She frowned. "You're impossible."
"And yet," he replied calmly, "you're still here."
Rihannat looked away, her heart betraying her calm exterior.
She was supposed to refuse.
She was supposed to insist on going with Folakemi.
So why hadn't she?
Basit took another step forward, not too close, not too far, just enough to make her aware of him.
"It's important," he said softly. "Trust me."
Her fingers tightened slightly against her arms.
That word again.
Trust.
She exhaled slowly… then nodded.
"Fine," she murmured.
His smile deepened—subtle, but real.
Why do you think basit invited her?
Why did she reject folakemi on his behalf?
And why is folakemi not against basit love and her friends feelings for basit?
Tell me the qualities of a genuine friendship you see in her?
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*Let me tell you something, a real friend will never push you where your heart doesn't lies even if he is her brother. And she will stand by you without sabotaging your friendship or your love life! ---- this is mine. Now tell me yours!
@OlukoyaZainab